


Let me hum a story (A story unknown to all)

by Mistropolis



Category: selector infected WIXOSS, selector spread WIXOSS
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Other, Spoilers, Writer's Block, don't read if u haven't watched spread ep5, i mean. it's abt fumio, idk what else to tag lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 00:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistropolis/pseuds/Mistropolis
Summary: Everyone holds too many unknown stories.(Sometimes you have to scream them all out)





	Let me hum a story (A story unknown to all)

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the selector series quite some time ago already and like... I'm so sad about Fumio and Futase? All the girls are very good (@Yuzuki why that wish though dude. Why must you writers make her character like that) but Fumio and Futase left quite the impression on me, so I wrote this impulse fic. This is the first time I wrote them tho and tbh they are kinda ooc?? I hope that isn't too severe at least tho aa.
> 
> The title, summary and the theme of the whole fic is based on a song called Unknown Mother Goose by wowaka. By any chance, you guys might see the song resurface among my fics later as well because I love it very much.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this!!

Futase has a wish. A wish of blasphemy.

“Futase, how are you doing today?” Fumio taps away on the keyboard, her eyes never once leaving the screen. Her tone sounds rather cheerful today, so that must mean things are going rather well.

“As I always am, Fumio. I’m inside a card. I can’t possibly feel much.”

Fumio nods.

The two stay like that for a while then, mutually content in the silence accompanied by the melody of the tap tap tap of the keyboard.

Gradually, Fumio’s tapping slows down and stops. She clicks on the word count counter.

Two thousand and twenty-three.

“Huh, it looks like I’m hitting my limit for this morning!” She gets up from her seat, stretching herself and looking around the room. Nothing changes much, as she has always imagined. Not even Futase has changed much in her posture, just sitting down on the ground as usual.

“Futase, do you have any story to tell?”

The question gives Futase hives. “Story? Do I have any story to tell? No duh, you would be surprised, miss successful writer.”

Fumio chuckles, a pleasant wind chime-like sound that never fails to surprise Futase when she heard it. “You know, sometimes I think about the fact that we manage to be friends like now. I think pretty much every Selector and their LRIG have an interesting story to tell, right?”

“Technically speaking, I guess so yeah.” Futase can’t remember her last Selector saying such a thing. Or is Fumio her first Selector again? Memories are nothing but a joke to her. “… You know, I’ve always wondered about something too.”

“Hmm?”

“When you asked about what Selectors and their LRIGs are like, and many other questions you have asked about Selector battles in general… Are they your writing inspiration? Is that why you asked, so you can write about WIXOSS and the different things about this world?”

Fumio looks evidently startled for a moment, then amused in the next. “That’s an interesting question you have there, Futase.”

“So are my assumptions right? Because if they are, I think I would gladly tell you anything you would like to hear then.” Futase pauses, realizing for a second that she might have seemed too proactive. “In your pace and all that, of course.”

Fumio smiles once more. “Thank you so much, Futase. Hearing that does mean a lot, but… that’s not why I asked.”

“Huh? Then why?”

Fumio turns on her laptop again, then opens the two-thousand words document again. “Futase, can I ask you a question in return?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you think I like writing in the first place?”

Futase startles, gulping down imaginary bile down her throat. “Why you like writing… I think it’s, it’s…”

“You can answer whatever you believe, I don’t mind.”

“Well, then I think it’s,” Futase looks outwards, away from the direction of Fumio’s stature in front of the laptop, away from the family photo Fumio puts right next to Futase’s card. “It’s because writing is your way to escape reality and to have your own world where you can do anything you like.”

The tapping stops.

“Hmm, I don’t think you are wrong in that respect, Futase.” Fumio sits back with her arms crossed over her chest, frowning deep in a spiral of musing. “No, you are definitely not wrong, but I can’t say you are right either.”

It’s Futase’s turn to frown. “How can I be both right and wrong?”

“Sometimes people can be both right and wrong with what they think, Futase, because us people can never know everything about something.” Fumio starts typing away again, a smile tugging on her lips. “Nobody could really see every aspect of truth for anything, because we are all from different backgrounds, have different experience, hold tight to different values.”

“How does that relate back to my answers?”

“Don’t fret, Futase, I’m getting to it in a moment.”

Fumio takes a pile of books from her bookshelves, each of them Futase has come to know intimately as Fumio reads aloud to her at times for every single one of the books. “I do think some people might have read books and write books to escape their realities because reality could be dull, could be annoying, could be painful to them… but I don’t think that’s all there is.

“No people ever write the same book, not even if they have been given the same characters and setting, because we inherently have different experience to draw from and to write. That’s why it’s so interesting to read so many books, so I can know what the authors think, and know what they feel in those books.”

“So you like writing not just because you can escape reality, but also because you can explore different viewpoints… wait for a second, that was about reading and not writing! You still haven’t answered my question!”

Fumio chuckles, genuinely for this time. “Except I have already, dear Futase. That’s what I have aimed to do with writing. I want to write out every unknown story in this world, every unknown story of love, of conflict, of everything.”

“So that’s why you want to write out everything in WIXOSS? Because you want the entire story of this world to be known?”

“That’s one way to put it, I would believe.”

Futase falls in silence, her thoughts floating up into bubbles she couldn’t poke into herself.

“Fumio? I think if you only write about different Selectors and their LRIGs interacting, that would be much easier. And in that way, you can write about—”

“It’s fine, Futase. You don’t have to force yourself to tell stories that are not real.”  Fumio’s smile, one tinted in bitterness, blossoms in a waterfall of frozen emotions. “For now, I will bring into life whatever I can manage. The stories that I want to tell.”

“But, if that was the case… did you really ask about Selectors and their LRIGs because you are curious, and not because you want to use them as your materials?”

“Well, if I do say so myself, I do want to know about them to provide inspirations too… because nobody could write everything without an ounce of inspiration, you feel me?”

“I see.”

The two fall into companionable silence once more, but in Futase’s heart, a wish has taken roots somehow. A wish that she knows cannot be fulfilled, because her old one has already been fulfilled by her LRIG, but one she’s starting to hold onto nonetheless.

Futase wishes she could stay Fumio’s LRIG forever.

 

⁕

 

“So, my dear Selector, what wish do you have?”

Fumio Futase has a wish. A wish of blasphemy.

Not a wish she could ever let loose into the world.

“What my wish is… I wish I could become a great novelist.”

“A great novelist?”

“Yes. I want to write the greatest novels and become the best in the field of writing.”

Anne giggles, a sound not too dissimilar to a certain someone. “I get it. Do you have any specific direction in what you want to write?”

“I have already been writing novels for a series, something I’m sure you won’t be too unfamiliar with.”

Anne frowns at that, her formal stature slumped somewhat in perplexion. “You… You are writing novels for WIXOSS battles, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. And I will keep writing them, and it’s my wish to keep making them as successful as possible. As you can make this wish true.”

Anne looks away as if she’s deep in thought of the prospects of continuous writing until the end of time. “As you wish, Selector.”

 _I am no Selector,_ but it’s a truth Futase has no courage to speak either. A truth she immediately follows with a different sentiment.

_None of us has ever been a true Selector._

 

⁕

 

“Fumio? Are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” Futase responds before she could really feel her hands, and she finds to her surprise that she has been sleeping on the laptop. Removing her head from the keyboard proves to be an arduous labour as if her head has been filled to the brims with noise and unnecessary grimes.

“Are you doing okay? You have been sleeping for ages.”

“You mean… ?” Futase rubs up the tears lined at her eyelids and take a better look at the computer screen. Other than a pile of letters that make no inherent sense other than indicating her having slept without turning the laptop off, there is pretty much nothing else on the screen. Certainly, nothing that could go into the WIXOSS novels.

“You know, if you really want to make your wish come true, you should go out and win Selector battles. Didn’t you remember what I told you?”

“You think I would have forgotten while I’m literally writing a series of novels about it?” Futase sits uptight, staring intently on the emptying screen as she deletes the useless strings of characters.

“Maybe you can let me read what you’ve written so far? Since your subjects are on WIXOSS, I’m sure I can help out a bit with what I know as an LRIG.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” _Like hell I would let you know I’m not a true Selector._

Futase taps on the keyboard once more, writing one word after the other. One word that doesn’t come together in a story with the other.

“Hey, Fumio?”

“What is it?”

“I’ve read the summary of the novels before.”

Futase found the keyboard very fascinating all of a sudden.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to tell me to my face, but I know it. You were an LRIG too, right?”

Futase couldn’t move her eyes away from the keyboard.

“Fumio?”

“Don’t call me by that.”

“That was your Selector’s name, right? Is that why ‘Fumio Futase’ is your pen name?”

Futase bites back expletives and tears, but mostly tears. She stares ahead at the words on the computer, never once establishing any eye contact with Anne.

“… It’s fine if you really don’t want to talk about that.”

Futase starts typing away once more. One word after the other.

“…”

 

⁕

 

“Is that what you really wish for, by any chance?”

Futase’s despairful stares at the word count counter of the document must have reached Anne’s periphery. “Of course.”

“Well, just so you know, I’ve been wondering on the subject of this,” Anne composes herself, like a proper traditional princess. “On how your wishes don’t have to be hers. You are a Selector now, you can go and have your own wish now, don’t you?”

“Don’t try to interject that at me now,” Futase continues to type away, the story of the girl unspooling in her heart, in her mind, into a pure stream of unravelled words.

“Or could it be… you are just terrified of disappearing?”

Futase hadn’t had such excellent ideas and drive for some time, so she has to keep on writing.

“You do know LRIGs that stop fulfilling their Selectors’ wishes will disappear to nowhere, that’s why you are so persistent in working on her novels, right?”

Futase slams the laptop shut. A roiling wave of unspoken emotions washes over her.

“Of course I fear I would vanish after I fail, but…” What is she doing now, dreaming of a way to justify herself? She casts her weary eyes back at Anne. “Do you ever try to look a girl with wishes in her eyes? Can you sense the depth of her despair? The hopes that shine in her eyes as she wins another Selector battle, the hope that her wish will come true shining brightly?

“You’ve never seen Fumio when she was writing, the way she deftly comes up with beautiful imagery in her writing and the way she could cook up the best plot twists. The way she looks when she finally managed to submit her novels to a publisher that likes her works. How much she cried when it got rejected and the desperation she holds in her battles.

“Until you’ve seen them, you know nothing!”

Anne watches her as she breaks down, her own kimono seemingly turning wrinkled as she maintains a tight grip on it. Her hands gradually lessen the grip, as both of them attempt to find words to fill in the space of this uncomfortable silence.

“I understand that then.” Anne nods slowly, to the invisible rhythm of her own statement. “Well, I suppose all people have stories they couldn’t have told, like how you and your former Selector both have a goal to aim for together.”

“You don’t have to read too deep into it, I just… I just thought it rude of you to have assumed everything about us like that.” Futase wipes the embarrassing tears rolling down her cheeks, shame flaming at the pit of her stomach. “You didn’t really deserve hearing a breakdown like that from me, either way. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You know what, actually?” A smile draws its way up on Anne’s countenance. “In some ways, I think I’m grateful that you are being honest about how you really feel. You understand how us LRIGs and Selectors would have done infinitely better if they do communicate.”

“I suppose I do, yeah.”

“So, are you finally going to let me read up the unknown story Fumio had written? You know how next up I’ll inherit the wish.”

Futase cries again, a small trail of tears overflowing a growing smile, matching with Anne’s in its radiance. “Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!!!


End file.
